Snippets
by harrysmom
Summary: What goes on in Ron's head at different times of his life? Only he knows.
1. Thats My Baby

A/N: Special thanks to Jenorama for pre-betaing this story and for being honest with her opinions and suggestions. This is my latest attempt to butcher the wonderful world of JKR. Please forgive me; I know not what I do.

**Snippets**

"Push Mione, push."

"Bloody hell Ron, I am pushing. What do you think I'm doing, knitting?"

"Hermione, you cursed. I have to alert the media."

"Ronald Billius Weasley, if you are not going to take this seriously, you can get theHELL out."

Out? I should get out? As if I would ever leave her now. I could never leave now. This is the most important moment of my life. I'm going to be a father. Me, a father. How am I going to handle this? Quaffles coming at me at 30 miles per hour I can handle. Saying Voldemort instead of You Know Who, I can handle. Having a row with Hermione I can handle, sometimes. But this, I don't know how I got here. I mean I know how I got here. It was that night 9 months ago when I came home and Hermione greeted me at the door wearing nothing but that hot pink nightie…

"Ron I swear, if this doesn't kill me, after this baby is born I am going to make sure that you can't do this to me again. And I'm not going to use magic to do it either!"

She wouldn't do that to me. At least I don't think she'd do that. She does look pretty upset but I hope she wouldn't do that. I want at least 2 more children. Coming from a big family myself I want my child to have brothers and sisters to play with. I thought she wanted more than one child, too.

She looks like she's in pain. Her face is all scrunched up, her hair is wet around her face and she's breathing so heavily. If I could take all the pain away I would. If I could have this baby for her I would. I love her that much. It scares me how much I love her. I don't know what I would do without her. I can't remember not loving her. She makes me want to get up everyday. I love her, did I mention that? Three years later I still want to scream it from the roof tops, "Hermione, I love you." It's silly really. I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone.

She looks so small laying there. I never realized how small she is until now. She can't do this. What did I do to her? How could I hurt her like this? It's all my fault. I made her do this; she didn't want it, I did. She just grabbed my hand. She's holding it so tightly; I'm beginning to lose feeling in it. Oh the pain she must be feeling. Oh the pain I'm feeling. Someone help me, please. Who am I kidding? It's just a hand; she's pushing out a baby. Focus Weasley, focus.

"One last push Mione, you can do it. One more push and we'll have our baby."

"Ron, I can't. It hurts so much. I'm scared; I don't want to do this."

"Hermione, you CAN do this, I know you can. This is nothing compared to what you've been through. Look at me love. Push."

She's staring at me now. Her beautiful brown eyes are wet with tears. She's showing me how scared she is. I know she's scared, but there's no doubt in my mind she can do this. She is the toughest person I know. I'm the baby, not her. She can stand up to anyone or anything and I'm afraid of spiders. I stare back at her and concentrate on showing her how much I love her with just my eyes. She's always said my eyes are my most expressive feature. She loves their color and marvels about how they change from one shade of blue to another depending on my mood. To me, they're nothing special but Hermione hopes our child inherits them along with my red hair. Personally, I'd rather have a baby with slightly frizzy brown hair and deep chocolate brown eyes. Jeez, is this baby ever going to come?

"That's it Mrs. Weasley. Stop pushing and just relax, take a deep breath now and let it out slowly."

"Mione I see it, it's coming, it's coming."

"O.K. Mrs. Weasley here it comes! It's a-"

I've opened my eyes to find myself lying down on a bed. This isn't my bed, whose bed is this? Wait a minute, how did I end up here? Shite, I must have fainted. I said I was a baby. Speaking of which, I have a baby. I'm a father. Bloody hell, I'm a father. I have to see my child. I have to get off this bed. I try to sit up but I find there is a restraining charm on me. What do these healers think I'm going to do, leave? My wife just had a baby for Merlin's sake, I'm not going anywhere. Except to find my wife and child,** if **I can ever get off this bed. I start yelling at the top of my lungs for a healer.

"Mr. Weasley, take it easy. You passed out."

A healer strolls into the room. Thank you so much for stating the obvious. I'll bet you had to go to school to learn that. Hang on, that just sounded like Hermione. Oh lord she's in my head now. I'm thinking like her. This is bad, very bad. I have to get out of here now!

"Yes I guess I did pass out, but I seem to be fine now. So if you'll just let me off this bed I can go see my wife." I try to lift myself up and again the restraining charm kicks in. Damn this is getting annoying.

"Can you release the charm, please?" I look up at the healer and give him my most winning smile.

"Hold on Mr. Weasley, I have to check you over first."

Great. He takes out his wand and he ever so slowly passes it over my body. Then he takes my hand and feels for a pulse. Yes I'm alive, I have a pulse. However young Mr. Healer over there better watch himself because he may not have a pulse for much longer if he doesn't let me off this bed.

"O.K. Mr. Weasley you seem to be fine. It looks to me as if it was a one time episode. You were just probably over stressed from all the excitement."

No shite? Really? Boy this healer is bloody brilliant. Let me off the bed Dr. Einstein. Uh oh, more Hermione in the brain, maybe I am sick. I'll worry about that later. Young Mr. Healer waves his wand and I am finally able to sit up.

"Your wife and child are down the hall, Room 1117. Congratulations Mr. Weasley."

As soon as the healer lets me off the bed I take off down the hall. Harry's Firebolt has nothing on me; I need to see my family. How funny is that? My family. Me, Hermione and our baby, a family. Speaking of baby, do I have a son or a daughter? I'm running so fast I almost shoot past the door to Hermione's room. I try to slow my breathing and I open the door. I see Hermione sitting up in the bed and I see there is a bundle wrapped in a blanket in her arms. She turns and when she sees it's me, she smiles and a glint of something shows in her eyes.

"Good show back in the delivery room, Ron. Wait until I tell your family about this, especially Fred and George. They'll get a load of jokes out of this. Big, tall, strong and handsome Ron Weasley can't handle seeing the birth of his son."

"Mione, you can't seriously consider telling Fred and…"

Wait a minute, did she say son? I have a son. Sweet Merlin I have a son. I look back over at Hermione and the glint I saw in her eyes before turns out to be tears.

"We have a baby boy Ron."

I seem to have lost my ability to speak right now. I can only gape at her as I stare at the bundle she is holding. Hermione is laughing at me. She's laughing and crying at the same time.

"Come and see your son, you big idiot."

I walk over to her. It feels like I'm moving in slow motion. I think it takes me 10 minutes to make it to the bed and when I get there, I see in her arms, my son. He has my ocean blue eyes and lots of Hermione's brown hair. It doesn't look to be frizzy, but I can hope. I am at a loss for words but there is nothing to for me to say. I just stare my beautiful son. I feel the tears coming down my cheeks but I don't care. This is way too important a moment to look for a tissue.

"Do you want to hold him?"

That was a dumb question, Hermione. Is the sky blue? Do the Cannons lose? Do I love you more than anything? Of course I want to hold my son. I smile at her, sit down on the bed and carefully lift the bundle out of her arms. This is my son. This is half of what gives my life meaning, right here in my arms. In the bed next to me is the other half of my life, my wife. You know what? Life is good.


	2. Who is this Girl?

A/N: These snippets are in random order. I write 'em as I think of 'em. I hope it doesn't get confusing. Many thanks to Jenorama for her comments and suggestions! Anyway, I'm off to butcher wonderful the world of JKR yet again!

A/N2: These lines come from the movie (SS) and not the book.

**Chapter 2- **Who is this girl?

"I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?"

"Ron Weasley."

"Pleasure."

Pleasure? That's it? Pleasure? What, I'm not good enough for her to speak with? Does

she really think anyone cares who she is? Harry Potter is good enough to talk to and I'm

not? She notices his scar and now I'm nothing? I know he's The-Boy-Who-Lived but I

mean come on, who does she think she is compared to the rest of us? A big nobody,

that's who. Just another kid on the way to Hogwarts.

Why is she in here anyway? A toad? She's looking for a toad? Look for the stupid toad

someplace else. Who would even want to bring a toad as a pet? Some boy named

Neville, she said. He must be a real jerk because toads are so dumb. Do you even see a

toad in this compartment? I really don't think you've looked. No, you're way too busy

running your mouth. Obviously, it's not here. I think I would have noticed a big brown

toad hopping by me.

Hermione Granger. Her-my-own-nee. Make sure you say every part of it. What kind of a

name is Hermione anyway? I never heard such a weird sounding name. I wonder what

her middle name is. Probably something stupid like Gwendolyn. Yeah, that sounds good.

Hermione Gwendolyn Granger. It fits her. You know, her whole name sounds really

stupid. My name isn't dumb like hers. Ronald Weasley, it has a nice ring to it don't you

think? Except when mum is yelling at me that is. Then I hear, "Ronald **Billius** Weasley."

But I won't get into that now. It's her I have the problem with. Her and her stupid name

with an attitude to match.

"Oh you're doing magic. Let's see then."

I couldn't turn Scabbers yellow. Big deal, I mean I tried. It's not like nothing

happened, my wand did flash you know. Fred must have given me the wrong spell. I can't

trust him for anything; I should know that by now. Maybe having to use my brother

Charlie's wand made a difference. It is kind of old, and knicked, and worn out. The spell

might have worked if I'd had a brand new wand that chose me… Nah, what am I saying?

It worked just fine. It must have been the spell. Yeah, it was the spell and the fact that she

was staring at me like I had two heads or something.

She made me nervous. That's why my spell didn't work. She made me really nervous. I

don't like to admit this but girls make me nervous. Girls are good for nothing except

making dinner, knitting jumpers and cleaning the house. (Mum better not ever hear me say

that.) I mean do we really need girls? I don't need a girl and it doesn't seem like Harry

does either. He's trying to be polite, but I can tell he doesn't care what she's saying. I

really wish this girl would take the hint and leave. We don't need her here.

She must think she's so wonderful. She fixed Harry's glasses. I could have fixed his

glasses if he'd asked, but he didn't. Maybe he's self conscious about them and doesn't

want to fix them. Maybe he doesn't want to wear them. My brother Percy wears glasses

but he thinks they make him look smart. I think glasses are stupid but they look kind of

cool on Harry Potter. Even if they are broken.

"You'd best change into robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon."

Who died and left her in charge? Last time I checked the only prefect around was Percy.

It's bad enough I'm going to have to take orders from him. I'm certainly not going to

follow the directions of some Miss know-it-all. Maybe if she'd shut her mouth and leave I

could change. She's in her robes already. I've never seen anyone care so much about

school clothes. It's a uniform. I don't see what the big deal is. The only difference

between her robes and mine is that mine used to belong to my brother Bill because I'm

tall like him and they are dark gray from washing, and not new and black like hers. If she

makes even one comment about the way I look in my robes, I swear I'll…

"You have dirt on your nose by the way. Did you know? Just there."

Does nothing get by this girl. Yes, I have dirt on my nose. Am I going to leave it there?

Does she really think I'd embarrass my family like that? We might not have a lot of

money, but we do have a lot of pride. My face is dirty; I'll wipe it before we get off the

train.

Let's look at Hermione Granger now. She's given me the once over. She must think I

didn't notice that sweeping glance of hers, but nothing gets by me. It's only fair I get to

check her out. Let's start from the top shall we? First, what is with that hair? My hair

might be red, but at least it doesn't ping out all over the place like that mass she has. It

seems to be some sort of weird brown color, like mud. You know, now that I think about

it, it's the color of the mud that surrounds the pond near my house. Oh, what I wouldn't

do to pitch her into the pond just so she'd shut up. She'd look amazing covered in mud

and pond scum... Oh yeah, back to Hermione Granger's looks. I can hardly see her face

there's so much hair. Maybe she's trying to hide those big front teeth. She looks like a

beaver. And another thing, she's short. I know, most people are short compared to me,

but she's bordering on goblin size. Maybe one of her parents is a goblin. That might

explain the teeth; I might just have to ask her about that.

Thank Merlin she's gone. I swear, if she ends up in the same house as me I might have to

kill myself. I'd rather be in Slytherin than have to see her everyday…well, maybe I

wouldn't go that far but really, _I can't ever see myself being her friend._


	3. Quidditch and Kisses

A/N: This takes place in OotP, just before the first Quidditch match of the season. It starts on page 401 of the American version for those of you who are keeping score.

The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to JKR; the butchering of said characters belongs to me!

Chapter 3- Quidditch and Kisses

The first Quidditch match of the season is today. I don't feel very well; in fact I think I might be sick. I feel like I did when I was throwing up slugs. There is something in the pit of my stomach begging to come out and I don't think its butterflies. What am I doing? I don't know what ever possessed me to try out. Fred and George have been taking the mickey ever since I got on the team. They're my brothers; they shouldn't be making fun of me. It's bad enough Malfoy and all the other Slytherins come to practice to laugh at me. My brothers should know better. It's true, Fred and George are only teasing, but it's making me feel worse.

I know I'm no Oliver Wood, but I don't play half badly. Angelina never would have chosen me if I was that bad. It just throws me when the other teams scores. I just have to make sure the other team doesn't score…like that is ever going to happen. Oh shite, who am I kidding? I suck at this game. Do you think anyone would notice if I didn't show up for the match? Maybe Harry will catch the snitch before I have to do anything like, I don't know, make a save maybe? I think I once read somewhere the shortest Quidditch match ever was 15 seconds, or something like that. I don't know how I'm going to do this. Oh lord, someone please help me. Better yet, someone get me out of this. Where's Oliver Wood when you need him? Why did he have to leave school? He could have stayed for an eighth year. I don't think anyone would have minded.

O.K. Breakfast time. I need to eat something. I don't think I can eat anything. I must have been mental to do this, _mental_. I have to get a hold of myself. I have to eat something. What's not going to bother me? Sausage? No, I'll taste that for the next 3 hours. Eggs and bacon? That will give the animals that have now taken up residence and are fighting in my stomach something to eat. Next choice. Cereal? That seems good. I like cereal. Are there any bananas lying around… BLOODY HELL, I'M PLAYING IN MY FIRST QUIDDITCH MATCH IN 2 HOURS!

Ginny and Hermione just came in and sat down across from me. Ginny wants to know how I'm feeling? How am I feeling, you may ask, oh sister of mine? Like shite. I don't know what to do. There is some milk left in my cereal bowl. Maybe if I stick my head in far enough I could drown and I wouldn't have to play. Harry just told them I was nervous. I'm not nervous; I'm terrified. Wait, Hermione is saying something.

"Well that's a good sign, I never feel you perform as well in exams if you're not a bit nervous."

News flash Hermione. This is not an exam; it's a freakin Quidditch match. That comment is supposed to make me feel better? She's not really helping me at this point. I don't feel any better than I did 2 minutes ago. Hang on; she's smiling at me. She's wearing her Gryffindor scarf, gloves and a rosette. She looks nice. The colors go well with her hair and eyes. You know, her eyes crinkle up at the corners when she smiles. I never noticed that before… Here's something else I didn't notice, I'M PLAYING QUIDDITCH IN 1 HOUR. And what is she going to do? Watch me play. Watch me make a huge fool of myself. Watch me fall off my broom and be carried off the pitch on a stretcher. I think I need to die, right here, right now, right in my bowl of cereal. Harry says it's time to go, bugger that, I'm staying right here!

"Good luck Ron..."

I don't remember what else Hermione said because, SHE KISSED ME! Bloody hell, she kissed me. Why did she kiss me? Did she kiss Harry? I didn't notice. I can't believe she kissed me. What does this mean? I can still feel her lips on my cheek. It's tingling, it's like her lips are still there. Did I just say that? I don't know what I'm saying right now. What is going on here? I put my fingers up to the place she kissed me. It's still warm. She just stood on her tiptoes and kissed me. Do you think she noticed I've gotten taller? Did she feel my beard? I don't have to shave every day yet but I run the razor over my face once every week and a half or so. I hope she thought my face was smooth.

I didn't even notice that Harry walked me to the changing rooms. I'm playing quidditch in a half hour. I can't think about that, Hermione kissed me. How do I feel about this? I know I feel one thing; I'd like her to do it again. Do you think she fancies me? She's never said anything but that doesn't mean she doesn't. There was that one time after the Yule Ball when she said I shouldn't ask her as a last resort but she was just angry I made fun of Vicky. Hang on; does she think I fancy her? Have I ever given her that impression?

Harry's just handed me my Quidditch robes. How do I put these things on? Cool, I think my name is on the back. Let's see; it says Weasley. Do you think Hermione will know which Weasley I am? Of course she will idiot, you'll be the one in front of the hoops getting your arse kicked by Slytherin. Oh, I know I am going to die. How bad is this? Alicia had to help me with my robes. I can't even get dressed right. I'm a bloody mess. Better yet, I'm a bloody disaster. What's Hermione going to think of me? She's going to laugh at me. She'll stop fancying me. She won't want to kiss me again. She won't ever know that I fancy her. I'M PLAYING QUIDDITCH IN… Huh? Who said that? I didn't say that did I? No, no I couldn't have said that.

_Ron you did say it, you're the only one in here. _

That's it. Now I'm officially barking mad. I'm talking to myself

_Admit it Ron, you fancy her._

Do I? Do I fancy her? Well, I look forward to seeing her every morning and her smile makes me feel funny inside. I've always thought she was pretty and now as she's getting older, I think she's even prettier. I like the way she pesters me to work harder; it's her way of showing me she cares about me. I like the way she fights with me and the way her face gets all flushed when she's trying to make a point, it makes her look very cute and kind of…I don't know what word I'm looking for.

_Sexy?_

Umm, O.K., she looks kind of sexy. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't know what I'd do if she weren't there every day.

_There's your answer Ron. _

Oh no. Oh please no. I can't believe this! Do you realize what this means? I just admitted it. I FANCY HERMIONE GRANGER. Now what?


	4. A Propsal Isn't Easy!

A/N- this chapter would not have been possible without the help of the amazing jenorama, who gives the best suggestions and comments and the wonderful doraemon who is one of the best betas around. I know I skip around a lot but I write them as I think of them. I am DEFINTELY open to suggestions for future chapters.

These characters belong to the wonderful world of J.K.R. The butchering of said characters belongs to me!

**Chapter 5_-_ A Proposal Isn't Easy!**

The box is sitting on my dresser. I am trying not to look at it while I'm getting dressed. What am I going to wear? Something nice, but not _too_ nice. I don't want to look overconfident. I swear the box is calling me. I'm ignoring it. What to wear, what to wear? I look through my drawers, pulling out jumpers and dumping them on the bed just as quickly. This one is too small, this one is way too stretched-out, this one smells, and this one itches. I can just see it now, I'm down on one knee trying to propose and I keep scratching at my neck like a monkey I once saw in the zoo. It was hanging on a tree-branch and it kept scratching itself. Wouldn't that be amusing? She'd really appreciate that. Hang on, I think…yeah, back there…there it is. I was wondering where this was. I pull out a dark blue jumper made of some soft material, catsmere, cashmere; I think that's what Hermione called it. Anyway, it's really soft and I know I won't scratch when I wear it. I pull on a white t-shirt and then the jumper over that. Now, a clean pair of jeans and a new pair of loafers completes the look. I walk back over to my dresser to check myself in the mirror. I haven't been this concerned with the way I look since the Yule Ball. Now at least I'm in style.

Damn that box, it's still calling me. The only problem now is it's laughing. I swear it's laughing. It's saying, _Stupid git, you actually think she'll say yes? Dream on. She can do so much better than a poor Weasley!_Damn, bloody box. "That's it," I yell and pick up the box from the dresser and throw it as hard as I can across my bedroom. It hits the wall with a thump and ends up on my bed. Almost immediately there is a knock on my door.

"Ron, are you all right in there?"

"Fine. I'm fine, never better. Getting dressed. I'll be right out."

It's Harry; I don't want to deal with him right now. He won't understand what I am going through. He'll never have this problem. He's Harry The-Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived Potter. He walks down the street and girls are practically throwing themselves at him. I know I'm a bloke and he's my best mate but come on, look at him. He doesn't have freckles or an abnormally long nose. He has those green eyes that all the girls seem to like and his hair is always perfectly messy. I swear, one day Ginny will probably get down on one knee and propose to him. Well, maybe she won't do that but I still think he won't have a problem getting her to marry him.

Me on the hand, let's be honest. No one watches me walk down the street, not that I'd want anyone to, mind you, but I'm just plain old Ron Weasley. The sidekick, the friend. I'm too tall, I have too many freckles, my hair is too red and my temper is too short. Hermione has said over and over that I think with my heart and not my head, which is why I lose my temper so easily. I certainly do think with my heart when it comes to her. God, I love her, I really do.

I walk over to the bed and search for the box among my discarded jumpers. I find it, pick it up and open it to make sure the ring is not damaged. Ginny wanted to come with me when I picked it out. She said she didn't trust me to get something nice. What does she think of me? I am a very capable wizard. I have good taste. I picked Hermione right out didn't I? Well, maybe not right out. I really didn't like her when I met her. She was the bossiest eleven-year-old witch I had ever seen. _No, it's Win-gar-dium Levi-O-sa, not Levio-Sa. _She really was a nightmare. I didn't want to be in the same room with her, let alone be her friend. Merlin, how my thoughts have changed.

The ring sparkles at me as I take it from the box and I hold it up to the light to make sure it's O.K. Knowing me, I probably broke it when I threw the box across the room. I examine it closely and lucky for me, it seems fine. I hope that she'll like it. What will I do if she takes one look at it and decides that it's the ugliest thing she's ever seen? I don't think it's ugly. The woman at the jewelry store said it was beautiful, but what if she just wanted to make a sale? Maybe I should have taken Ginny with me, you know, to get another opinion. What was I thinking?

I picked a square-shaped sapphire for the center stone instead of a diamond; there are diamonds but they are shaped like triangles, sitting on either side of the sapphire. I wanted her to have something a little different because she's different, but in a good way. Maybe different isn't the right word. Special is more like it, I think. She's special. Hermione sees me like no one else does. She knows what to say when I'm down, how to ignore me when I'm angry, when to give me a hug, when to leave me alone, and she _definitely_ knows when to give me a good kick in the arse. She cares about my feelings, and most surprisingly she loves me in spite of all my faults, and I bloody well know there are many. To this day, I can't figure out how I got so lucky as to have Hermione Granger fall in love with me. She deserves a ring that is different and special. Besides, I know this sounds corny but the color reminded me of my eyes. Mione is always going on about them and how beautiful they are, so I thought it would be romantic to have a sapphire. Me, romantic? That's a laugh. The most romantic thing I've ever done was take her for a picnic in the park. Even that didn't work out well; the ants and the gnomes saw to that. I can't even be romantic correctly.

How am I going to propose without dying? How am I going to propose without her laughing at me? I should have asked Bill or Charlie for advice on what to say. I know Bill took Fleur up to the top of the Eiffel Tower and professed his undying love _in French_ and Charlie? Well, he probably took Tonks for a moonlight fly and proposed in mid-air. Either that or he had a dragon do it for him. Who knows? All I know is I don't know what to do. Why isn't there a guide for this sort of thing? I just hope something will hit me when the time comes, preferably not Hermione's hand.

The clock on my bedside table says it's 7:30. I have half an hour before I have to pick up Hermione. I probably should get moving. The key word there is "probably". What am I doing? I am going to ask the girl I love more than my own life to marry me and I don't know what to say to her. BLOODY HELL, WHAT AM I DOING?

"Ron Weasley, if you don't let me in right now, I am going to blow this door right off its hinges!"

Uh oh, it's Ginny. I must have said that last part out loud. Damn, damn, damn. I open the door to find her standing in the doorway. She pushes by me and stands at the other end of the room. She folds her arms across her chest, glares at me and shakes her head but says nothing. Great. I'm going to feed myself to the wolves in half an hour and my sister wants to play games. I think I'm going to be sick. I try to ignore Ginny and look back to the mirror and fix my hair so that it doesn't look like a shaggy unkempt mess. As I finish, I feel Ginny come up behind me. She starts to smooth out the back of my jumper and then makes sure that the t-shirt collar isn't sticking out.

"Turn around Ron. Let me look at you."

I turn and stand perfectly still as Ginny's eyes travel up and down my body. She squints and reaches towards me. I jump back because who knows what she's got in her hand. I don't trust her. "For God's sake Ron, there's lint on your jumper." Ginny frowns at me and pulls the piece of fluff off me. "Prat," she mumbles. Behind me I hear Harry snicker. When did he show up? I turn to give him a look and he shrugs his shoulders as if to say _I can't stop her_. I look back at Ginny. After another minute she stops staring at me. She gives a smile as she steps back. What does that mean? Is she going to laugh? God help her if she laughs.

"Ron, we don't want to send you off without a toast to your future."

Ginny turns toward the door and Harry walks into the room holding three glasses and a bottle of _Jack Daniels_; it's a Muggle whisky that Harry drinks and I've developed a taste for it as well. He puts the glasses down on the dresser, opens the bottle and pours two shots. He hands one glass to Ginny and takes the other for himself. He starts to hand me the bottle. "Here mate, you're going to need this."

"Very funny, Harry."

"I'm not being funny, Ron. You're going to need this, especially if she says no."

I just stare at Harry. What am I thinking? In what dream would Hermione really want to marry me? What if she says no? I sink down onto the bed and cover my head with my hands. I hear what sounds like a slap and Harry saying, _sorry_ but I don't even look up. I feel Ginny pulling on my shoulder but I don't move; I'm still too busy wondering what will happen if Hermione says no.

"Ron, look at me."

I ignore her.

"Ron, if you don't look at me I'm going to hit you with a Bat Bogey Hex, and then you really won't be able to propose."

You know, I never thought of that. If she hits me with the hex, I can get out of doing this proposal thing.

"Ron."

Uh-oh, she's tapping her foot. I look up at her and she is looking down at me with a very serious expression. This can't be good.

"Ron, do you love Hermione?"

"Ginny, I can't believe you are seriously asking me that."

Harry starts to say something but my sister cuts him off with a wave of her hand and a look that wipes the grin right off his face. I think it's safe to say that my sister is turning into my mother and that's a scary thought. She looks back at me.

"Well Ron, I'm waiting. Answer the question, please."

I can't take this anymore. First Harry makes fun and now Ginny wants to know if I _love_ Hermione?

"Bloody hell Gin, you want to know if I love her? I would do anything for her because she means everything to me. Hermione is the reason I get up every morning with a smile. I can get through the day because I know she'll be there, waiting for me, when I get home. I know it may sound dumb to you but I don't feel like a whole person without her. She completes me. But you know what the best part is Ginny? She loves _me._ She loves plain, ordinary Ron Weasley and because of that I am special and that makes me love her even more." I jump up from the bed and glare at her. "Hermione is the best thing that has ever happened to me and if she'll have me, I am going to spend the rest of my life letting her know how wonderful she is."

I finish my rant and what does my sister do? She just smiles at me and gives me this big huge grin. I don't understand this. What just happened? Did I miss something? I just poured out my soul and my sister is shaking her head at me. I am so glad she is finding this amusing…

Hang on, she did this on purpose. She_ wanted_ me to answer her like I did. She knew I needed to say what I was feeling. I'll never admit this out loud but I love my sister, I really do. Now I know what I'm going to say to Hermione. I grin back at her and look over at Harry, who is smirking at me.

"Harry, give me that bottle. I need a drink." Harry laughs and hands me the bottle. I hold it up and Ginny and Harry raise their glasses as well.

"To my sister Ginny. You have way more sense than I give you credit for, except when it comes to your feelings for the prat next to you." Before Harry can say anything I continue. "To Harry, my best mate and honorary brother. I just hope that when this time comes for you, I am there to watch you make a _total arse_ of yourself." We all laugh for a moment and I take a swig from the bottle as Harry and Ginny down their glasses of whisky. I put the bottle down on the dresser, take the ring box from the bed and turn to walk out of the room. Harry claps me on the shoulder and says, "Good luck, mate" Ginny stands on tip-toe to kiss me. As I bend down to give her better access to my cheek, she whispers in my ear, "Well big brother, it took long enough but you're finally ready. Go get engaged."

I know she's right. I can do this now. I know I can. With that, I stand up straight, square my shoulders and walk out of the bedroom towards my future.

A/N2- my apologies to Tom Cruise and the writers of Jerry Maguire. I had to use the line, it fit.


	5. Who's Fanciable?

A/N: I have been inspired by HBP; there is so much to choose from. This part stuck out to me because it seems that this is the point where Ron realized, not only was Hermione a girl, but that she wasn't giving him her full attention. This chapter takes place on pg. 218-219 in HBP, the American Version if you're really interested.

As always my thanks goes out to jenorama for her comments and suggestions, and to doraemon for her ability to make my dribble grammatically correct. Yay to them!

These characters belong to the wonderful world of JKR; butchering of said characters belongs to me!

**Chapter 5- Who's Fanciable?**

I love Saturday breakfasts at Hogwarts. There is so much to choose from and I can eat to my heart's content. Mum never puts out a meal like this. I can eat from one end of the table to the other and no one says a word. It isn't crowded on Saturday morning and no one rushes you from the table. Come to think of it, Saturday is my favorite day all around. There's no need to get up early, no classes to worry about, and there is no studying to do, unless, of course, you are Hermione. I swear that girl would study even if the castle was coming down around her ears. She loves her books. God help the person who tries to talk to her when she's got her nose in a book. She always looks so serious, twirling a hair around her finger and chewing on her bottom lip as she takes notes. I like to watch her when she studies; she looks so pretty when the light hits her hair…Who just said that? Did I just say that? Bloody hell, what is my problem? I find myself thinking about her at the strangest times. I don't know what's going on with me. She just pops right into my thoughts and I can't get her out. Wait, that's not true. I know what my problem is and I know what's going on…I… fancy her. I, Ron Weasley fancy Hermione Granger. It's amazing that I can say that so calmly, but it's the truth and I've realized it.

The question is: am I going to do anything about it? No, I don't think so. What if she doesn't fancy me? What if she fancies someone else like Viktor? She still writes to him on occasion and won't tell me what she puts in her letters. I wonder what she could possibly have to say to him. Better yet, I'd love to know what he has to say to her. I might have to get angry if he's trying to put the moves on her. But then again, Viktor Krum has so much to offer her. He's a famous Quidditch player, He's older and Hermione seemed to like the way he spoke. I don't know, maybe there is something there…No, can't be.

Hermione fancying Viktor would be bad but you know what would be worse? If she fancied Harry. That would just about kill me. I would have to go up to the top of the astronomy tower and pitch myself over. I often wonder if she has feelings for him because she worries about him, makes sure he gets his assignments done and she mothers him, just like Mum. Harry seems to like it too. I know he gets annoyed when she constantly asks how he is doing, how he is feeling, and does he need any help with his work. He sometimes looks at her and gives her a smile that I really don't like. I'd hate to have to challenge my best mate to a duel. Who am I kidding; Harry would be so much better for Hermione. What do I have to offer her anyway? He's got money, fame and talent. I've got Fred and George. In a contest, there would be no contest. I'd lose.

She doesn't pay attention to me like she does Harry. She nags me to finish my assignments, criticizes me when I curse, annoys me when I'm busy, makes my ears turn red when she sits next to me, makes my heart beat faster when she smiles at me… There I go again. This has to stop!

I swear if she fancies Harry, I don't know what I'd do. An Unforgivable spell on me might work. At least I'd stop thinking about her…Nah, she fancies _me_, at least I think she does. I mean she kissed me before the Quidditch match last year, didn't she? That had to mean something. She didn't kiss Harry. You know, now that I think about it, sometimes when she thinks I'm not looking, I catch her looking at me with an expression I've never seen before. One of these days I'm going to have to do something about that. Key phrase there is, one of these days. I can't do anything about it now; I wouldn't know what to say…Oh, is that kippers on the table? I love kippers, especially with eggs and toast.

Harry is holding Quidditch try-outs today. I am hoping that I will be Keeper again. I know that Harry would never play favorites but I am his best mate and that should account for something, I would think. My skills have improved but there are probably much better keepers out there. You can't tell me that I'm the only person who will be trying out for keeper. That would be too easy and I never get luck like that. Lavender Brown keeps telling me that I'm the best Gryffindor Keeper since Oliver Wood. What that girl seems to forget is I'm the _only_ keeper since Wood. Come to think of it, Lavender has been very nice to me lately and I don't know why. She smiles at me and tries to sit near me in class. I don't get it.

Harry is discussing tryouts with Hermione. He doesn't understand why so many people have applied. I'll bet it's because we won the Cup last year and the fact that Harry is back at Seeker. I hope that Ginny will make Chaser, she deserves it! She's practiced way more than I have and she has developed a wicked feint move. She'll be on the team for sure. Oh great, Hermione is giving Harry reasons that so many people want to try out for Quidditch. This should be interesting, like she knows anything about Quidditch. I keep telling her you can't learn Quidditch from a book…

"…You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."

EXCUSE ME?

Did she just say that Harry is _fanciable_? I'm having trouble swallowing this piece of kipper in my mouth. I think I might be sick. I am gagging on this piece of fish and all she does is shoot me a dirty look. She thinks Harry is FANCIABLE? I knew it, I just knew it! Why, in my right mind would I ever think that Hermione Granger could like someone like me? Bloody hell, my life is over! What am I going to do? I don't know, I really don't know…deep breaths Weasley; just take deep breaths and think…

Hang on, she never said she fancied Harry, she just said that she thinks he's fanciable. There's a difference. Maybe I still have a chance. Please, just let me have a chance. I need to have a shot with her before she chooses Harry. I just want to snog her senseless once in my life before she moves on to Harry. But then again, would I even know how to snog her senseless? I don't have much practice in that department; come to think of it, I have _no_ practice in that department. If I kiss her, she'll laugh at me. Damn, damn, damn. What is she saying now?

"You can still see the marks where that evil woman made you write with your own blood…"

I have marks too, did she forget about that? What happened to me in the Ministry was just as bad, if not worse. Those brains were no fun. I still have nightmares on occasion where I can still feel them crawling on me. I have to remind her of that.

"You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look." I roll up my sleeves and show her the scars that are still able to be seen on my forearms. Harry just gave me the strangest look I have ever seen. What is his problem? I mean, I've never told him my feelings about Hermione. I've never told anyone, I keep them a closely guarded secret. No one knows but me! Why would he look at me like he knows something that I don't? Then again, at least he looked; all she did is look through me. This isn't going well. I need to try again. She's still talking…

"And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either."

She thinks he's tall? I can't believe this, I really can't. Since when does she care that Harry's tall? I'm still taller than he is. I have a good four inches on him, at least. And since when has she ever said she likes tall men? Besides, I am the tallest Weasley. She has to have noticed that. I'm way taller than Charlie, Fred and George. I even top Bill and he's really tall. Bloody hell, I'm taller than my dad. She wants tall? I'll give her tall.

"I'm tall."

I just blurted that out. Oh god that sounded so stupid. What are you doing Ron? I know what I am doing, I'm trying to get a response from Hermione and bloody hell, she's looking right through me. It's as if I haven't said a word. I might as well be wearing Harry's invisibility cloak. You know what? I give up. She doesn't care about me. She really doesn't care... What am I going to do?


	6. Yes, it's MINE!

A/N: This chapter takes place starting on page 161 in the American Version of OotP. Thanks to Linda for suggesting this in the first place and of course, thanks to the beloved muse aka BuckNC who is able to rile me up with enough emotion to write. 

These characters belong to the wonderful world of J.K.R. The butchering of said characters belongs to me.

**Chapter 6****- Yes it's Mine**

"Harry, booklists have arrived…About time, I thought they'd forgotten, they usually come earlier than this…"

I am so glad the book lists have arrived. I was getting nervous that the owls wouldn't be able to find us here. After all, it is off the map. Merlin, I can't wait to get out of this place. It is so ruddy depressing here. It's filthy and drafty and Sirius moping around doesn't help. Mrs. Black's portrait is constantly screaming at us and yesterday, I was attacked by a pair of bloody purple robes. Luckily, Dung got me out of them before who knows what would have happened to me. This place is so infested with Doxies and Merlin knows whatever else that it's unsafe to explore half the rooms in it. But the worst thing that lives here has to be Kreacher, the laziest and nastiest House-Elf I have ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon. He constantly mutters under his breath as he goes about his work with comments like, "Blood Traitors are in mistress' house," and "Mudbloods in the most Noble House of Black, how sad."

I miss The Burrow. I miss my room. I even miss the Ghoul in the attic. I never thought I'd say that. Imagine, missing a Ghoul. I'm going mental from being shut up inside this bloody house.

What's even worse is that there are too many people coming and going, at all hours, and it really bothers me because I don't know what they're doing. I keep trying to find out what is going on, but Mum has pretty much taken care of any possibility of that. There are Imperturbable charms everywhere and Fred, George, Ginny, and I are constantly sent to our rooms. It bothers me to no end that we have no clue what is going on. Bill knows what is going on, Charlie knows, I wish we knew. Fred and George came up with these Extendable Ears to listen to their conversations but Mum caught one and now even those don't work with the charms Mum put up. I could probably ask Tonks. Maybe she'd tell me, but then again, maybe she wouldn't. I just want to know something, anything at this point! What I wouldn't give for five minutes to be in one of those Order meetings.

I thought that when Harry got here things would be better but he is still barely talking to me since because I couldn't write him about anything that we knew. Not that I knew anything but he didn't exactly believe me. Hermione keeps saying he'll get over it and that she understands why he's upset with us. I tried explaining but he doesn't want to hear it so I stopped trying. Having your best mate angry with you for no reason is not fun…

Well, let's open the letter and see what books I'll need this year. Hopefully, I'll be able to use some of Fred and Georges' old books. 

_**Dear Mr. Weasley, **_

_**Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. **_

_**The following books will be needed:**_

_**The Standard Book of Spells Grade 5 **_**by Miranda Goshawk,**

_**Defensive Magical Theory **_**by Wilbert Slinkhard,**

_**Molds, Spores and Other Fungus **_**by, Verdi Green**

_**Intermediate Potion-Making**_** by****Libatius Borage**

At least Mum only needs to buy the Defense book for me. I can use Fred and Georges' old books for the rest…Wait a minute, there is something else in this envelope. What is this? It's a badge. What?

_**Congratulations, we are pleased to inform you that you have been selected as one of the two Gryffindor prefects this term…**_

What the…

Prefect? Me? I thought it would be Harry.

O.K., this has to be a joke. A big, huge joke. George or Fred must have done something to this letter. It must have a charm or spell on it or something. Maybe if I shake it, the writing will go away. . 

"What's up with you, Ron?"

This can't be. I can't be a Prefect. Oh Merlin, I'M A PREFECT! I can't believe this.

"What's the matter, Ron?" Fred just came around behind me and he's now reading over my shoulder. 

"Prefect!…_Prefect?" _Fred is looking at me like I have two heads. He's standing there with his mouth hanging wide open like a fish. He can't believe it either. That makes two of us. 

Now George is coming over. He just grabbed the badge out of my hand and Fred took the letter. Fred says it must have been a mistake. At this point I have to agree with him. 

"No one in their right mind would have made Ron a prefect…"

Hey, now I'm not that bad! I could be a prefect. I get decent grades, I usually follow the rules…O.K. maybe not usually but I don't get into trouble that often. I know I'm not a fanatic like Hermione is but I am pretty good. 

"We thought you were a cert…"

Fred just said that to Harry.

Oh no, Harry.

Harry. What is Harry going to think?

Maybe Fred is right. Harry should have been the Gryffindor prefect. I mean he won the Tri-Wizard tournament and faced you-know-who for Merlin's sake. Maybe there's been a mistake. It has to be a mistake. No, it's Professor McGonagall's signature. Maybe the Headmaster made a mistake and meant to pick Harry instead of me? I always thought he was half around the bend anyway. This has got to be a mistake.

What if he meant to send the letter to Harry and instead he accidentally wrote my name? That would be horrible! And even worse that would be embarrassing! Could you just imagine? I'd be the first person ever to have his prefect badge taken away before the school term even starts. 

George just handed back the badge to me. I haven't even looked at it yet. I still can't believe this is mine. It's got a Gryffindor Lion's head on it and a **P** on top of the lion's head. Harry is standing next to me. I don't know what to say. I just handed it to him. He'll be able to tell if it's real or fake. It's got to be real.

"Did you---did you get---?"

Hermione just came running into the room. She must be the only person I know that gets excited over receiving a stupid book list. That girl really needs to get her priorities in order. Next thing you know, she'll want to set up study schedules… Wait a minute. Why is she staring at Harry? She's staring at Harry. Harry has the prefect badge_, my_ prefect badge.

"I knew it…me too, Harry, me too!"

Merlin, my day just keeps getting better and better. _Hermione_ is the other Gryffindor prefect? You have got to be kidding me. How am I ever going to survive this? I'm prefect with HERMIONE? But wait… she thinks that badge belongs to Harry. She thinks he's the other prefect. She probably thinks that I could never be prefect. 

"No," Harry said quickly. "It's Ron. Not me." Harry just shoved the badge back into my hand. Hermione is looking at me like I have boils all over my face. Now she's starting to speak…

"_Ron?"_She looks shocked! She doesn't know what to say; Hermione Granger is at a loss for words. This is a first. She's talking again. "But…are you sure? I mean---"

Wait a minute. Hermione doesn't think I'm capable of being a prefect. She thinks I'm not good enough. 

Maybe she's right, maybe I'm not. 

But then again, how could she say that? Bloody hell, she really doesn't think I should be prefect. She thinks someone else should be prefect. I'll bet she thinks HARRY should be prefect. She wants to spend the time with Harry. I'll bet she's been looking for an excuse to spend time with Harry. 

I glare at her as I answer back, "It's my name on the letter." 

"I…"said Hermione, "I…well…wow! Well done, Ron! That's really…"

"Unexpected," said George, nodding. 

Don't help her out George. I'm beginning to enjoy this. She's trying to make me feel better. Now she thinks I can be prefect? I think she needs to make up her mind. Does she even know what she's thinking?

I can't tell what she's thinking anymore. Better than that, I don't think I want to know what she's thinking. Who knows what goes on in that bushy haired head of hers anymore? She's been so secretive lately. I know she writes to Vicky and she's gotten a letter from him since we've been here. She and Ginny were giggling over it for days. I don't know what she sees in him anyway. He's not terribly bright and he isn't very talkative. Hermione needs someone who is smart like her, can stand up to her and her moods, can treat her well and can know what she's thinking. Is there even a bloke like that around? It couldn't be Dean or Neville or Seamus. None of them are smart enough and Neville is afraid of his own shadow. That just leaves Harry and me. I do know what she's thinking. Yeah, I just said I didn't know but I do know. She's thinking she wants Harry to be prefect. She's just trying to let me down easy. I think I'm going to be sick.

"No," said Hermione, blushing harder than ever, "no it's not…Ron's done loads of …he's really…"

Great, now she's at a loss for words. Hermione has no problem coming up with big long fancy words when we row, but you ask her about me being prefect and she's stuttering like a fool. She doesn't know what to say. She's still staring at me. I'm not sure how to react. On one hand she thinks I can't be prefect and now she's trying to tell Fred and George that I am more than capable of being a prefect. I really need for this girl to make up her mind about me…being prefect. It would make things so much easier. Spending time with her won't be so bad. I could get used to that. She'll have to spend time with me making up schedules, and discussing things that are going on in Gryffindor tower. I'll have to sit next to her on the train and patrol with her and make sure she's safe and maybe even hold her hand… nah, no sense in going that far. I don't fancy her like that.

You know, being a prefect with Hermione might not be so bad. 


	7. She's Fine

A/N: I started playing with this chapter who knows how long ago. It's been sitting on my laptop and I would open it, write a line or two and then close it up and not look at it again for weeks. Then the Attention Deficit Disorder lifted!! Many hugs to Pilar, Erin, Annette, Nattie, May and Shannon for looking it over and giving me suggestions and comments. Thanks to Stacy and Shannon for the pre-beta work. Doraemon is the best beta. She can take my dribble and turn it into something wonderful.

These characters belong to the wonderful world of J.K.R. Butchering of said characters belongs to me.

**Chapter 7- She's Fine**

She's sleeping now. And I know she's not dreaming because her breathing is finally even. When we first got her here she was moaning and the tears were coming non-stop from her eyes. I've never seen her look so small, so frightened, so fragile, so…still.

They hurt her.  
I wanted to kill them.

She's the strongest person I know. The bravest and the smartest and nothing gets to her when she sets her mind to it. I've seen her stand up to Death Eaters, seen her hex people twice her size without breaking a sweat. But what they did to her was… different. What they did was beyond anything we learned in any book. It was beyond anything I've ever heard of, ever! _That,_ she couldn't stand. _That_ she couldn't take. I can still hear her screaming; I'm going to hear it for a very long time. I can still see her curled up in a ball at Bellatrix's feet, shaking. Why did they torture her? Why Hermione? Because she's a muggle-born? You would have thought they'd take me. I'm a pure-blood. I mean the Weasley line goes back hundreds of years and I've certainly proved that I don't believe in keeping the pure-blood line intact. If you think about it, I'm just like Harry's dad; I've 'dirtied' the wizarding world by falling in love with a muggle-born witch.

Yes, I love her. It's no secret anymore. I admitted it to myself and then to her. I was so afraid of what she was going to say. I knew there was no way she would have ever felt the same way about me, I mean how could she? I'm not so good looking, I don't have a lot of money and I'm not famous or important. Yeah, I know all of Gryffindor and some of Ravenclaw were singing, Weasley is Our King on a regular basis but it's nothing compared to what Fred and George have done with their joke shop, or how Charlie works with dragons or what Bill has done for the Order or what Harry will have to do.

Then when I started dating Lavender, she ignored me. It hurt more than I ever thought it would and I know that I deserved those canaries. I deserved the comments and the coldness. I started out being upset with her because she had kissed Vicky and it annoyed me that I hadn't kissed anyone. I wanted to be her first kiss. I probably should have told her that. It would have saved us both a lot of trouble.

The funniest thing is, she apologized to me! When I woke up in the infirmary after I was poisoned, she was there. I never would have dreamed she'd be there. She apologized for everything she had done, every nasty comment she had made. And you know what the best thing was? She said that she fancied me! Hermione Granger fancied me! Plain and ordinary Ronald Weasley. She waited while I ended my relationship with Lavender! I mean what girl would wait for ME? Hermione Granger, that's who.

Things haven't been easy, especially this year. We've been on the run since Bill and Fleur's wedding. It hasn't been easy, living so close together with Harry. We've had to hide what we feel towards one another and stealing kisses when Harry wasn't around just didn't do it for me. There's something about Hermione that makes me want more. I want it all with her. And I mean ALL. It's something I think about a lot and when I left Harry and her, I missed her something horrible. I know it's not going to happen for a while and I have no right thinking about it now. Not after what she's been through.

I've been scared before, I've been angry before. But I never experienced anything like what I felt in the dungeon at Malfoy Manor. I would have pulled those bricks down one by one to her. I've never felt so helpless in my whole life. Harry kept yelling at me to be quiet but I wanted to make sure she knew I was there. She needed to know I was trying to get to her_. _I had to be strong for her. Every time Bellatrix yelled a question at her she was so brave. Yeah, I know she was crying but even so, she was brilliant. I wish I could have been there in the room with her. I would have used _Avada Kedavra _without even a second thought. Harry said you have to mean those spells in order to use them. Let me tell you, I would have meant every single word. No one hurts Hermione Granger and gets away with it. She's mine!

"Ron, she iz still sleeping, yes?"

Fleur just came in. Funny, I didn't even realize she walked in. Bill had once mentioned that after he fell in love with Fleur, he was able to be in the same room with all her Veela relatives and he never really had a reaction to any of them. I guess I really do love Hermione. No, it's not a guess. It's a_ fact_.

As I nod, Fleur walks over to the bed and smoothes the blanket down over Hermione, and brushes a curl away from her cheek. It reminds me of the first time I kissed her. She was sleeping in a chair in the common room and I reached over to touch a curl and she woke up. I was so surprised that I almost forgot the reason I was there. I still remember that kiss as if it was yesterday. A kiss that kills, she had said…

"I zink I will leave you for now. Hermione, she will be fine. Just let her rest. "

Let her rest.

Fleur leaves and standing up from the bed, I move over to the window. I can see Harry in the distance. It looks like he's still digging. How am I going to tell Hermione that Dobby is dead? How am I going to tell her that he died saving us? I can feel the tears in my eyes but I'm not going to cry. I need to be strong for her, for all of us. I can worry about telling her later. She needs to stay calm. She needs to rest.

Let her rest.

I wish I could just leave her here to rest. I wish with all my heart that she would stay here with Bill and Fleur, away from the Death Eaters and the danger. But I know she won't. I won't even mention it because I don't want the argument it will start because I know, no matter what, she'll insist that we need her with us. As hurt as she's been, she's still that strong. It's just one more thing I love about her.

"Ron?"

Looking over at the bed, I see she's awake. I cross the room and carefully sit down next to her. She's staring at me and I slowly lay my hand on her cheek. "You had us frightened Hermione. I thought I was going to lose you." Funny, it feels like there's a lump in my throat. Clearing it, I continue, "We were so worried that we wouldn't be able to reverse the spells. Bellatrix used some we didn't recognize. It took a while but Fleur and Bill figured it out and were able to heal you. You're going to be fine, love. Just fine."

I can't figure out why her eyes just got so wide.

I can see the tears flowing from her eyes again. Oh Merlin, I didn't want her to cry. She's not supposed to upset herself. "Don't cry love. Please don't cry." I use my thumb to wipe the tears and she turns her head so that I can reach her other cheek.

Then I feel it, a soft kiss on my palm and then I hear her voice, not louder than a whisper. I have to learn forward to hear her. "The emotional range of a teaspoon my arse…so wrong…I love you, Ron Weasley."

The tears I've been holding back fall from my eyes and I lean down and kiss her lightly on her cheek, my tears mixing with hers. "I love _you_, Hermione Granger."


End file.
